


woven into the fabric of your tapestry

by theoneinquisitor



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Childhood Friends, Fluff, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-23 20:27:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20014321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoneinquisitor/pseuds/theoneinquisitor
Summary: The one where Bellamy and Clarke adjust to the revelation that they're soulmates.





	woven into the fabric of your tapestry

**Author's Note:**

> BFF Prompt: Please write a soulmate fanfiction with a link or bond.
> 
> This ended up being about soulmarks, so I did end up changing the prompt a little. Enjoy!

Clarke finds her soulmate on her seventeenth birthday.

She's curled up next to her best friend, legs tucked under his in a way only familiar to them, as they wait for the clock to hit midnight. Both of their eyes are on her wrist, excited to watch as the lines swoosh and swirl around the blank patch of skin. Her heart is thudding uncomfortably in her chest and she's not sure if it's nerves or excitement, perhaps a little bit of both. Bellamy is tapping his fingers in rhythm on his own thigh while Clarke watches the tendons of his wrist carefully, the bold compass stretched across them moving with each tap. 

“You good, Griffin?” he asks when he catches her eye. 

She smiles tightly, “Yeah, just kind of nervous.”

“Just nervous?”

He could tell something had been bothering her all day but she tried to play it off as not having gotten enough sleep. Truthfully, her stomach’s been in knots all week, mind racing as the time for her compass to appear approached. What it didn’t work? What if she never found her soulmate? What if she did and she didn’t like them? What if, what if, what if…

Ever since they learned about them, Clarke had always wondered how it worked. How could the universe just  _ know  _ who you’re supposed to be with? What if, hypothetically, there is someone else she wants to be with? And this  _ hypothetical _ person just so happens to already have a compass pointing east?

“You didn’t have to come over,” She says quietly. 

He nudges her shoulder with his. “Are you kidding? Wouldn’t miss it. We made a pact, remember?” 

Of course, she remembers. Their parents had been strangely secretive about the idea of soulmates, always saying they would explain when the time came but Bellamy and Clarke have always been curious, even as kids, and any time they were together always ended up with them getting into something they weren’t supposed to. They had been sitting in a computer lab the spring of their seventh-grade year when Bellamy had first brought it up. 

“We should look up soulmates,” he had declared as Clarke typed along next to him. 

“We’re supposed to be typing,” she had argued weakly, already minimizing her screen to click on the little blue ‘e’ in the corner. Their teacher was thankfully occupied on the other side of the room, concentrating on helping one of the kids in their class learn how to set their fingers. She typed ‘soulmates’ into the search engine and tapped enter.

The results had been overwhelming. Articles. Blogs. Webpages. Images. Books.

_ Borealis,  _ is the scientific name for it. Latin, Bellamy had known immediately and all she could do was remind him what a nerd he was.  _ After all, what twelve-year-old recognizes Latin? _

The simplest explanation of it was this: a phenomenon of human connection, dating back to as early as 1200 A.D. On a person’s seventeenth year, they are presented with a compass, formed on their skin (usually, one’s wrist, but in rare cases, it can appear anywhere) that will point them to another person. Early philosophers described it as being from the school of thought that each person is one half of a whole and the compass guides them to that whole. Once the two halves find one another, each compass will then point North and stay there for the rest of their lives.

“That’s intense,” Clarke had said, trying to process the information. They continued to read, mostly about how it had appeared through history. It used to be outlawed, considered dangerous when arranged marriages were an important part of politics and kingdoms. 

“Can you believe they beheaded Marie Antoinette because she wanted to be with her soulmate?” Bellamy had whispered in awe, “History books say it was because she couldn’t produce a male heir…”

They scrolled through the information, reading stories from people who had gone through hell to find their North. Some had happy endings, some didn’t. Clarke’s stomach had turned when she read about those whose compass never moved, stuck because their soulmate didn’t exist or worse, was already gone.

“So….it just shows up on your seventeenth birthday?” she asked finally, still trying to put all the information together. It was a lot to take in, the thought of having just one person who she was meant to spend her life with. One half of a whole.

“We should watch it,” Bellamy replied, “I mean it just appears? There has to be like, some sort of magic involved.”

“The universe  _ is  _ magic,” she smiled.

He had rolled his eyes at her then, “Don’t go all Disney princess on me. I mean, on our birthdays. We should like…make a thing out of it. Do you think they show up at midnight?”

“I don’t know.”

“Only one way to find out!”

And so that’s what they did. On Bellamy’s birthday, they ordered pizza and built a fort because it felt like a special occasion. Clarke hoped it would be. She couldn't shake the gut feeling that he was her soulmate, not since learning about what they truly were. If she's being honest with herself, she's had a crush on Bellamy since at least sixth grade but had never been sure how to tell him because he's her best friend first. He’s the boy who pushed Dax Lawrence to the ground when he pulled Clarke’s hair in the first grade. The boy who climbed a tree for her when her favorite ball got stuck and nearly broke his wrist climbing down. Shared lunches. Hushed conversations late at night. Dinners. Movies. Games. Everything.

He's the boy who has been in every moment of her life since she can remember.

When his compass formed, they both watched with gripped hands and held breaths. There wasn't much magic involved. One moment Bellamy’s wrist was blank and the next, there was a compass. Nothing spectacular or large. Just a series of dots and lines. Letters for each direction. The needle was the coolest part, forming in a bright shade of blue. contrast to the rest of the black ink. It had been exciting at first, but then they watched as his needle wiggled for a brief moment before settling on E and not moving. Bellamy stood and turned every way possible, but the needle stayed the same. 

His compass was broken. He wasn’t her soulmate. They were both devastated and yet for entirely different reasons. 

She jumps when the clock dings loudly, signaling midnight as they do it all over again.

There’s a faint itch beginning just underneath the heel of her hand and then, it’s appearing. Fading lines sharpening into view, small and bold. The needle that etches itself into her wrist is dark brown, a simple line starting from the middle and reaching to the top, stopping where a bold N has formed. It shakes, and she smiles at the sight but it soon disappears as the needle settles somewhere towards the southwest and stops all together, a familiar sight. 

She tries not to show any emotion over it, for Bellamy’s sake, and even offers a painful smile, “Looks like we’re twins.”

He reaches out and takes her wrist, running his thumb over where the needle is frozen with an unreadable expression, “Clarke, I’m--”

He doesn’t get to finish, instead they watch the needle slowly tick towards the top, stopping when it lays across from the N. North. It’s pointing True North. Her eyes snap to Bellamy’s, who is watching her with equal shock, his hand starting to feel warmer where it’s still wrapped around her wrist. She turns her arm so that they both move, exposing his own compass covered wrist. And it no longer points east. No, instead, it’s identical to hers. North.

“Bellamy,” she croaks, voice suddenly dry at the revelation.

Bellamy is her soulmate. Her gut feeling was right.

She loves him. She knows that much, but she wonders what kind of love it is. She’s had a crush on him, sure, but that doesn't mean she's like, in love with him. She doesn't really even know what that means and she’s certain Bellamy doesn't either. He’s got quite the reputation for breaking hearts. She remembers Roma Green cried in class for two weeks freshman year after he broke up with her. They had only dated for two months, but that’s the thing about Bellamy. Once you know him, you don’t remember what it’s like to not.

He stands, untangling his limbs from hers and begins to pace the living room. He runs a hand through his hair, an array of untamed dark curls that need to be cut, if she had a say. He covers his compass with his hand and pulls it back. He repeats that gesture multiple times as if the next time, it will be pointing east again.

“Bellamy?” she questions because he doesn’t look anything short of distraught and while this was definitely beyond unexpected, he doesn't seem to share the same excitement she does. Does it not make sense to him the way it does to her? 

He doesn’t stop pacing until she gets up and stands in front of him, placing her hands on his chest to slow his movements, “Bellamy, stop.”

He does, but his eyes seem to be looking everywhere but at her. She tries to swallow the anxiety clogging her throat, but her voice is quiet when she asks, “Are you…upset?”

His eyes meet hers again, wide, “What?”

“Are you upset?” she repeats, dropping her hands to her sides and toying with the hem of her oversized shirt, “That it’s me, I mean?”

“Why would you think that?”

That makes her snort despite the burning in her eyes. She won’t cry over this. She won’t. She’s careful when she speaks so that she sounds composed, “I don’t know, maybe because you’re freaking out right now.”

She doesn’t want his reaction to hurt. It shouldn’t because it makes more sense than her own. She had accepted it too quickly. She was happy about it because he’s Bellamy and really, doesn’t it save her the trouble of looking and maybe not ever finding them? He’s already right here. But he’s acting like this is the worst possible outcome. Like he would have preferred his compass to stay broken and she doesn’t know what to do. She can’t make hers change. The universe has spoken.

He turns his back to her, hand curled over his mouth as if stopping words from involuntarily spilling. She wraps her arms around herself, like maybe she can hold herself together until he leaves and she can let it all hit her at once. Her soulmate doesn’t want her. Not like that. The realization feels like a punch to the gut.

“Clarke,” his voice breaks on her name, “I’ve spent the last eight months thinking I didn’t have a soulmate or worse. That maybe they were dead, and I’d never know them. But then it’s you and I’m just trying to wrap my head around it.”

“I’m really sorry, I—”

He whirls around before she can finish, crushing her to his chest so hard her breath is knocked out of her. “It’s you,” He whispers, “God, I’ve spent so long hoping it would be you.”

She rests her cheek near his heart, listening to it beat wildly in his chest. She can’t hold back the tears anymore. “Me too.” 

He pulls back, lifting his hand to her cheek tentatively. She melts into his touch, eyes fluttering shut as his thumb swipes underneath her eyes, “You’re my best friend, Clarke. This makes more sense than anything I could have come up with in my head.”

“So, you aren’t disappointed?”

He leans forward so their foreheads are touching. His breath is warm on her nose as he lets out a soft laugh, “The opposite actually. Are you?”

She leans back so she can look at him fully and she brushes a stray curl from his forehead, “If I had the choice, I’d choose you every time.”

When he leans in to kiss her, there is a flicker of panic as she registers everything that’s happen. Will she only love him like this because she’s supposed to? She always wondered how natural love could be if the person was chosen for you. Did you love them because you were supposed to? Enjoy kissing them because you were told to? But the moment his lips touch hers, she knows now that the universe knows what it’s doing.

Her body feels as though it’s waking up out of a long sleep. Like she had been alive, but only barely, until now. Something thrums along her veins causing her skin to grow warm, an electric current flowing between them. He pulls back quickly, eyes wide and she knows he feels it too.

“Wow,” she smiles shyly. Her hands are curled into his shirt, his on her waist, warmth seeping through the thin cotton of her shirt. Suddenly, she’s hyper-aware of every inch of him. She moves closer, instinctively.

“Wow.” He agrees, wrapping his arms a little tighter around her, “Should have done that sooner.”

“Well, the good news is now you can do it anytime you want.”

He smiles, leaning back in, this time more confident. It’s the same, a crackle and pop of electricity as they cling to one another exploring this new territory. She thinks she could do it forever, look for new things to discover with him. 

It’s nearly two am when she walks him to the door, catching his wrist where his tattoo is and pulling him back to her. 

“No story tonight?” she jokes. He likes to tell her stories, of gods and stars and love and loss. He’s a walking encyclopedia of mythology, an endless well of knowledge. She loves to hear him tell them, always with excitement and fascination. 

“Not sure I can think of one at the moment, to be honest. You’ve got my head spinning, Griffin.” 

“Oh well,” she breathes, “I’ll make an exception tonight, besides, I’d rather…”

And she kisses him again, thinking they might just be creating their own stars.

* * *

  
When they arrive at school the next day, no one gives much of a second glance at their interlocked fingers or the way Bellamy presses his lips to her cheek when he leaves her to go to class. It’s no surprise, not really, because the way they see it, guys and girls can never be  _ just friends.  _ Bellamy and Clarke were no exception to the rule. But what they don’t understand, not until Clarke spills something all over the front of her sweater, is that they are exceptional. 

“Here, you can put this on,” Bellamy tells her, beginning to shrug off the flannel he had worn over his plain gray t-shirt. 

She tugs off her sweater, thankful she wore a tank top underneath, and tosses it into her locker before reaching for the shirt gratefully. “I guess I should take back all those times I made fun of you for constantly wearing unnecessary layers.” 

“Holy shit!” someone breathes from behind her. She turns and sees Bree Taylor gaping at them, hand frozen where it had just been reaching into her locker.

Clarke turns back, thinking maybe something spectacular is happening down the hallway, but then feels a cold hand grip her wrist. Bree reaches between them to grab Bellamy’s wrist as well, eyes growing wide at the two identical compasses. “No wonder you managed to snag him off the market, Griffin. Didn’t really have a choice in the matter, did he?” 

“There was no choice to be made. It’s always been her.” Bellamy says without hesitation. 

“Well,” Bree smiles tightly, “At least we know you’re not gay.”

“Even if I were, why does it matter? Would you think less of me or something?”

Clarke has to bite back a smile at the way Bree visibly shrinks back. “No, no, of course not. That’s not what I –” 

“Just go.” 

She quickly turns around, slamming to door to her locker and then heading in the opposite direction. Clarke pulls on the shirt before wrapping her arms around Bellamy’s neck. “Always been me, huh?” 

“Shut up.” He grins before leaning down to kiss her. 

It’s easy to get lost in it, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. She forgets all too quickly they’re standing in the middle of the hallway until she hears Mr. Stinson shouting at them from the doorway of his classroom.

“Blake! Griffin! If I catch you making out in this hallway one more time, you’re getting detention!” 

Bellamy reluctantly releases her but leans down to whisper. “Worth it.” 

* * *

  
  


It doesn’t take long for the news to spread like a front-page headline.

THIS JUST IN: Bellamy and Clarke are soulmates! 

Nothing exciting happens in Arkadia. It’s a small town in the forgotten spaces of Ohio that has exactly one movie theater and not much else. Finding a soulmate shouldn’t be worth a second glance, not when it’s a universal experience, but when it happens to a seemingly naïve pair of high school seniors, suddenly it’s a  _ phenomenon _ . The attention isn’t anything new, not for Clarke, at least. She’s always been the subject of hallway whispers, whether it be because of her Father’s tendency to stay in the spotlight thanks to his job and her mother’s involvement in the town happenings – being head of the school board often causes a lot of friction. One of her closest friends was the Mayor’s son, Wells, and when he died freshman year, she missed school for nearly a month because the whispers were too much. 

_ She was with him, didn’t you know? She saw him die? Can you imagine what that’s like? I heard she spent three days in the psych ward.  _

She refuses to let that happen again. So, let them whisper, her chin will remain high. 

Bellamy, however, seems to be more than uncomfortable under the microscope. Clarke tries to reassure him – “They’ll find something else to care about in a week, don’t worry about it.” But he’s always been the quiet kid, the boy in the corner writing stories in his notebook and being the first to raise his hand in class. People like him, but he knows how to fly under the radar and he’s been more than happy living that way. 

No matter what they do, eyes seem to find them. She catches people staring quite frequently, whether it be when they arrive at school together or eat lunch. On more than one occasion, she’s caught one of her teacher’s looking at her wrist curiously, forcing her to yank down the sleeve with a glare because, really, it’s not that big of a deal! Despite all of this, however, their own excitement about the whole thing hasn’t yet worn off. Bellamy has always been a tactile person, but now he touches her whenever he can, whether it be an arm around her shoulders, his fingers interlocked into hers, or a quick tuck of her hair behind her ear. He’s really taken to running his fingers over the spot on her wrist marked for him and goosebumps always follow the trail he makes along with a stupid grin. She’s found that kissing him is one of her favorite things, often snatching him from the hallways and pulling him into an abandoned classroom to get her fill. She could kiss him forever, honestly.

As far as their relationship, nothing much has changed aside from the additional touching and excessive kissing. He’s still her best friend... still the boy who used to sneak her gummy worms in fifth grade and used to get them in trouble when he’d write her notes in class, mostly just to tell her the latest story he read. Who once fell out of a tree trying to grab the helicopter fairy she had gotten stuck. Who listens to her vent about English Lit and in turn raves about history because ‘it’s fucking  _ cool _ , Clarke.’ He’s just more now. 

She’s happy. Every worry or concern she ever had about soulmates seems like a distant memory. The universe really knew what it was doing.

* * *

It doesn’t exactly slip her mind to tell her parents. She had full intention of telling them within a week of the discovery, but every time it was on the tip of her tongue, something held her back. Both had been busy with work, her Father traveling and her mom working doubles at the hospital, so the chance hadn’t really come up anyway. She’ll get to it eventually.

Except someone beats her to it. 

When Clarke arrives home, bursting through the door in a fit of giggles as Bellamy tickles her side, both her parents are sitting on the couch. Waiting.

“Mom? Dad?” she’s out of breath, tugging at the bottom of her sleeve to pull it down unconsciously.

“Bellamy?” her dad smiles, standing from the couch, “Can I talk to you in the kitchen for a second?”

Bellamy nods, locking eyes with her as he goes with a shrug. He’s as confused as she is. He disappears with her dad into the kitchen and she turns her attention back to her mom, who is shifting uncomfortably on the couch. She approaches carefully, sitting down in the chair across from her, “What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

“Let me see your wrist.”

Oh.

Clarke offers it without much of a fight and winces when her mom rolls up the sleeves of her sweater. She watches as her mom takes the compass in, thumb running over the N gently. “His is north, too?”

She can’t help twitch of a smile when she says, “Yes.”

“When did this happen?”

“When the compass formed.”

“That was almost a month ago, Clarke!” 

“I know! I’m sorry…”

Abby lets out a long sigh, her entire body deflating with it, “Why didn’t you tell us?”

Clarke shrugs, eyes trained on her sleeve as she pulls it back down and fiddles with the soft material.

“Listen, I know your Father and I haven’t really talked about it with you, but I think you should know what all of it means.”

She snorts, “A little late for that.”

“No, it isn’t. Of course, we thought we’d have more time to explain, but—”

“You don’t have to explain anything,” Clarke stands, eyeing the kitchen, “I know what it means. Bellamy is my soulmate and that’s it.”

Her mother stands too, blocking her path to the kitchen with a hand on her shoulder, “It’s a lot more complicated than that, Clarke. You’re young, and I know this seems exciting, but you need to understand that you can’t just blindly follow him because you think you’re supposed to.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“That you are my daughter and I want what's best for you!”

“I thought you’d be happy that it was Bellamy,” she says in confusion. Her parents have always loved him. Growing up together meant he was already part of the family and honestly, she really did think her parents would be over the moon about it. 

“Sweetie, you know we love him,” Abby says, “It’s not that. It’s…finding your soulmate this early.” She pulls Clarke back down to the couch, keeping her hand in hers as she speaks. “You still have your whole life ahead of you. Going to college. Finding a career. Being young. Finding your soulmate may seem like the most important thing, being with him and settling down, but I don’t want you to miss out on life.”

Her mind is processing things too slowly. She hears what her mom is saying: you’re young and in love— is she?— but that’s not the most important thing in life. She agrees. She knows it’s naïve to think that everything falls into place once you find your soulmate. She doesn’t doubt her path nor Bellamy’s. Being friends as long as they have meant growing accustomed to being integral pieces of one another while also remaining independent.

“Mom, I’m not going to go elope with Bellamy and start a family the moment I turn eighteen,” she rolls her eyes but when she says it, she finally pieces together what her mom is trying to tell her.

_ Don’t do what I did. _

As if her mom can read her expression, she grips her hand tighter, “You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Clarke. And I love your Father. So much. But we met when I was your age and I know what this feels like. I was going to go to med school, I wanted to be a surgeon. For as long as I could remember that was my dream, but then I met your father and those dreams were pushed aside. Before I knew it, I had a family and settled for nursing school because it was the easiest thing to balance at the time.”

Instinctively, she feels a flare of anger because it almost sounds like her mom is unhappy with the way her life turned out, like she blames the compass or her dad for holding her back. “Do you regret meeting him? So young, I mean?”

“Of course not. I could never regret that. But I do regret my decision to put my dreams on hold to rush into things. Soulmates don’t go anywhere. Once they’re your soulmate, it’s for life. And there is no reason to rush into marriage or settling down because no matter what, they’re still your person.”

_ No matter what, they’re still your person. _

“We both have dreams, Mom. We want things for ourselves but even before we knew, our futures always included each other, you know?” as she says it, she realizes how true it is.. They’d been inseparable since the first day they met, woven into the fabric of each other’s everyday life. “I promise we’re not going to live in some fantasy bubble. But my future has always had Bellamy Blake in it and that’s not going to change.”

There’s a long pause and for a moment Clarke worries her mom is going to freak out because, really, it’s a bold statement coming from a seventeen-year-old. But then she pulls her in for a hug, squeezing her shoulders tightly. “I just want you to live the happiest life you can.”

“I’m really happy it’s him.” She murmurs into her shoulder. Her mom pulls back with a smile.

“Me too. For what it’s worth.”

To her surprise, her parents aren’t totally against Bellamy coming up to her room to study. Before, it had never been an issue, but she figured being soulmates might encourage her parents to enforce tighter rules. They both flop on her bed and let out collective breaths of relief. They had been trying to figure out the best way to approach her parents since they found out, but never could come up with anything. And now just like that, it’s all over.

“What’d your mom say?” he asks finally, rolling onto his side and propping his head up to look at her. He threads his fingers into hers where they lie on her stomach.

“Please don’t run off and get married.” She summarizes with a laugh. “What did Dad say to you?”

“Pretty much the same. But also that if I hurt you he’d, you know, make sure no one ever found my body.”

She leans up to kiss him quickly. “I think you’re safe. My dad purposely goes out of his way to avoid squirrels in the road, I doubt he could kill you.”

“Wow, thanks for the reassurance.”

She shoves his shoulder playfully, climbing into his lap to pin him to the bed, “I, on the other hand, could  _ definitely  _ do some damage.”

He squeezes her hips, fingers dipping into the ticklish divet near her hip bone. She twitches, but refuses to budge knowing he’s just looking for the upper hand. She pushes his wrists into the mattress with a smirk.

“Face it, Blake. I’ve got you.”

He concedes easily with the shake of his head and a twinkle in his eyes.

“Yeah, Griffin, you got me.”

* * *

  
  


They decide to tell Bellamy’s mom together almost right away, mostly to avoid another bombardment, and it’s more emotional than Clarke expects.

They're at the dinner table eating Aurora's famous chicken and dumplings when Bellamy clears his throat. “Clarke and I, uh, have something to tell you.”

In hindsight, it’s probably not the best opening because Aurora’s eyes go wide as she drops her fork, “Tell me you aren't pregnant.”

“Gross!” Octavia squeals from her seat. The twelve-year-old covers her ears in horror like she'll never be able to get that image out of her head. 

Clarke chokes on a dumpling, coughing loudly into her napkin. Bellamy pats her back gently while glaring at his mother.

“What?” she asks innocently, “Your teenagers and you've been making  _ eyes _ at each other all night.”

“We don’t make eyes.” Bellamy grumbles, “And even if we did, it's because we're soulmates.”

That's one way to do it. Just rip it off like a band-aid. 

An awkward silence falls over the table and Clarke thinks maybe the conversation would have been better had if she weren't there. Aurora looks between them and it's then that Bellamy lifts their hands from where they had been threaded together under the table, showing the compasses fully. Clarke feels something strange tingle up her spine as she sees the compasses side by side, both frozen North. 

“Oh my God,” Aurora whispers and then she's crying, moving around the table to pull Clarke into her arms. Clarke hugs her back, eyes meeting Bellamy’s, who looks utterly confused at the turn of events. To be fair, his mom has always liked her and treated her as part of the family so her reaction isn't all the out of the ordinary, but it’s quite a contrast to their experience with Clarke’s parents. 

“Mom, what's a soulmate?” Octavia asks, breaking the moment. 

Aurora pulls back and wipes the tears from her eyes before sitting down with a watery smile. She grabs her daughter’s hand, “It's the person you love the most in the whole wide world. They're chosen for you.”

Octavia scrunches her nose, “I love you most. Does that make you my soulmate?”

Even Clarke has to smile at that. 

“No, sweetie. It's romantic love. Like a fairytale. Your father was mine.”

Instinctively, Clarke’s hand tightens in Bellamy's, knowing that talking about his step-dad is a sore subject. Bellamy never knew his real dad, having been the product of a one-night stand when Aurora was in her twenties. But Octavia’s father was her soulmate and the only father Bellamy ever knew. After Octavia was born, things were good for a while but when Bellamy was ten, he came home from school one day and Thomas Blake was gone. 

Aurora never really said what happened or why, but it was devastating for all of them. Aurora most of all because her soulmate just decided he didn't want one. That he wasn’t happy and took off. 

“If dad was your soulmate then why did he leave?” Octavia asks. She had only been six when it happened, but she remembers it just like they all do. She was hurt by it and still is. 

Aurora is strong and moved on. She focused on her kids and has done one hell of a job as a single parent. Clarke admires her for that. 

“Sometimes it scares people,” her mom says before turning back to them, “But you all don't look scared at all.”

Bellamy looks at her and smiles, “Couldn’t imagine it being anyone else.”

The rest of the night is spent sharing memories with one another and by the time it's time to leave, Aurora embraces her tightly. “Thank you for taking care of my son,” she whispers, “I'm so glad he has you.” 

“Always.” 

* * *

  
  


It becomes a well-known fact that there is no Bellamy without Clarke and vice versa. They're parts of the same machine, two pieces of a puzzle that only makes sense when they're together. 

“You know, the Greeks were firm believers in soulmates,” Bellamy tells her one night as they lounge in her backyard. The hammock is rocking gently in the spring breeze and she’s curled contently into his chest, nearly asleep as he whispers stories about the stars.

“Is that so?” she murmurs.

Her ear is pressed to his chest and his voice rumbles as he begins his story. “They say that Zeus created three kinds of humans: male, female, and a mixture of both. And they were round, with two heads, four arms, four legs…”

“Sounds terrifying.”

“Exactly, they were. They were fast and strong and soon Zeus realized they were a threat to the gods.”

“So, what did he do? Zeus was kind of crazy, you know?” 

Bellamy chuckles. “He cut them in half. Right down the middle and then had Apollo turn their heads around so they could see where they had been cut.” 

“See? Psychopath.” Clarke rolls her eyes but allows him to continue. As much grief as she gives him for being a nerd, she loves to hear him tell stories. He has a way of telling them, something that is so uniquely Bellamy, that she could listen to him for hours and never grow tired. 

“Apollo sewed them back together. That’s where belly-buttons came from,” he grins, before playfully poking at her naval. She laughs and jerks away, nearly knocking them from the hammock. 

“I thought this was about soulmates, not the origin of belly-buttons!” 

“Well, if you would let me finish…” she settles back into his arms quietly in response and he continues. “After they were separated, all these new humans were frantic trying to find their other halves. Those who found their partners would hug, as if they could force themselves back together, but would usually just starve to death trying to do so.”

“Zeus finally took pity on them and made it so they could join together in pleasure, that way they would feel connected like they once were…”

“So, Zeus let them have sex,” She clarifies boldly. 

“To put it simply, yeah.” He agrees with a huff, “And we’re all creatures of those first humans, seeking out our other half. To them, love was always a pursuit of wholeness. Kind of like the whole compass thing.”

They grow quiet for a moment, admiring the stars as Clarke takes in the story. She lifts her arm, examining the tattoo on her wrist with a soft smile. “Too bad they didn’t have these back then. Would have made looking a lot easier.”

Bellamy wraps his fingers around her wrist softly, running his thumb over the needle. “You ever wonder what it would be like if it wasn’t me?” 

“Never.” She says instantly, sitting up as best as she can as the hammock swings underneath them. “You?”

He tangles a hand into her hair, pulling her down to kiss her. It’s soft, but fierce, just like he is. She’s half-dazed when he pulls away, leaning his forehead onto hers.

“Never.” 

“It seems kind of silly though, doesn’t it?” She muses, settling back into his chest, “The idea of halves and wholes?” 

The world feels right with Bellamy. Balanced. But she can’t help but hate the idea that someone isn’t whole without another person. That somehow they’re less without them.

“Yeah,” Bellamy agrees, tangling his fingers into her hair, “it’s funny, before I knew you were my soulmate, I didn’t feel like a half. Something felt off, definitely. But I still figured, hey, life goes on right? Maybe fate has different plans for me.” 

“It’s me, I’m fate.”

He laughs, “Thank God for that.” 

They lay in silence, the hammock rocking back and forth gently lulling her to sleep. 

“Clarke?” 

“Hm?”

“You are so much more than a half to me, you know that right?” His voice is just above a whisper, his fingers stop moving against her scalp. She turns to look up at him, at the familiar smattering of freckles along his nose, the sharp angle of his jaw. All these things she’s known for so long. “You’re my best friend and you are whole and I love you.” 

She had thought the words might scare her, might make her second guess everything because they seem to be a product of some tattoo of fate. But when he says them, she believes it. Because she knows he’s loved her for far longer than the compass has existed. And she’s loved him for what feels like an eternity. 

“I love you, too,” she murmurs. 

“Yeah, I was kind of hoping you did.” He drops a kiss to her forehead.

As she falls asleep, she thinks: they’ve got this soulmate thing down. 

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from the song Compass by Zella Day, which deeply inspired this idea.  
> Comments & Kudos always appreciated.  
> Find me on [tumblr!](https://octannibal-blake.tumblr.com)


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